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Sesimbra, 2018, before leaving Portugal
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This year is going fast. That is something I often felt with many years. Some years start eventfully. This year did! Especially with the new year day. We came back from our travels by the second week of January. But then when we returned home, the momentum slowed down. Drastically. It took some time to recover from all the food overdose. The year was already on full swing. January 10th. Weirdly, Anchorage is not as cold these days, although we are in the peak winter. Temperatures at mid 40s! (that is, 7 c). 2024 was a great year. 2025 so far felt like a hangover from the remarkably fun 2024. The semester is already getting to its speed. We are planning the summer and travels for 2025 already. Although it felt like a continuation of 2024, 2025 is starting to have its unique features too.
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View of Tagus River
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I often wonder how travels are an inevitable expense in the life of a person who is living abroad. Even when international students struggle with their finances, they travel back home once a year or once in two years. I did. We all do. Such a long-haul trip would feel like an unwanted expense or a luxury for a person who lives in their own country (unless they take pride in being international travelers). But for foreign students and foreign employees, travel is just a part of their identity. Most of us don't even consider going back home as a "travel."
When I hear from students who just got accepted to grad school, it brings me back to 2012. A time that feels so close, yet too far. An intermediate time between now and a time when I was in Sri Lanka. It feels like a previous birth at times. Grad school is a fun experience. As grad students, we already knew how to build things, how to write proper software. We felt like adults. But we also felt like kids - we were students, after all. Things look beautiful when you look back!
It doesn't feel right that I must spend thousands of dollars to fly across the ocean to walk on the same riverside I walked ten years ago or to enjoy some bacalhau in my favorite restaurant of my 20s.
Why does the world feel big sometimes? Don't mind me. It's the Friday feeling.
